Leave it all Behind
by LittleThings
Summary: Sam, Jack and an ever-growing gap between them. Spoilers for Affinity.
1. Prologue

_**Spoilers: **Season 8 - affinity._

_**Disclaimer: **SG-1 are not mine.They belong to the television people and I just borrow them from time to time._

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**-Leave it all Behind-**

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**Prologue **

She'd awoken to a fear greater than any coldness she'd ever imagined; a tight feeling bruising her chest as drops of water from the cave roof prickled her skin and his hands – his fingertips gently brushed them away.

Minutes later her eyes flickered open and immediately she spied him to her right, his back to her, running a hand through his greying hair.

"Jack – I think she's awake." She heard footsteps, and the noise of a body kneeling beside her.

"Daniel," she slurred.

"I'm here, Sam." She moved slightly, pushing down on her elbows to get more leverage. He placed his hands on her shoulders and softly pushed her back down to the ground, berating her silently for her attempt to get up.

Her eyes slid shut once more and the echoes of the cavern faded to a dull whisper.

**>>>>>>>>**

Reassured by her steady breathing Daniel stood up, and walked quietly to the rocky entrance.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Daniel – " Jack narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Not now."

"You just don't get it," he exploded, "Or rather I don't get it. That's twice today she's woken up and you've gone on a little excursion. And for what… the trees don't move you know. You can curse at them any time." He slouched down on the stone and plonked his face in his hands.

Jack was gazing into the distance, pretending to be interested in nearness of the red moon that blocked the night sky –

'_So close I can almost touch it,'_ he'd heard Carter exclaim to a rather unenthused Teal'c, as the temperature dropped on their first night. He'd bitten his tongue there and then, knowing exactly how she felt. To him it was the same as that feeling of liberation coursing through his veins when she smiled, only to be quashed by the realisation of his entrapment as she turned to him – 'Sir'. Settling for 'almost' had become another constant in his life.

Since the announcement of her engagement she'd been keeping her distance; not overtly, but he'd noticed the little rituals that were slowly dwindling between them – she no longer stayed late in her lab, he no longer brought her coffee and ordered her home. Christmas had brought an abrupt epiphany – there had been no unexpected call to go for lunch, and then he had noted how their unofficial duo that spent Christmas alone together had lost a member and now was down to just him.

He wasn't clueless. On the field he could read her like a book, as could she him. Yet still she remained this elusive enigma to him, and he was caught underneath his fear that gradually she was cutting him out of her life and that the best thing to do would be to make it as easy for her as possible.

**>>>>>>>>**

She stirred again, this time managing to roll over and press her hot cheek against the cool stone surface. She was vaguely aware of a throbbing pain in the region of her shoulder, so fierce that she tried to cry out but words refused to come and her dry throat rasped painfully.

She recalled a staff blast, and a tumble some distance down the cliff face, but apart from that nothing.. had she broken anything? She was so tired… sore.

"Hey." Drops of water from a cloth dripped slowly into the corner of her mouth.

"Daniel.. what's happening?" she spluttered as some of the liquid went down the wrong way.

"You fell. I don't think you've broken anything, ribs maybe, but you're pretty bruised. The staff blast isn't helping matters. We'll have you back on your feet soon."

He pushed his glasses up firmly and began to sponge her forehead. There was something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Jack. Could he possibly be anymore evasive? And Sam, whose face wore a ghostly smile, had yet to ask for him at all.

Once upon a time he'd been worried by how close O'Neill and Carter seemed to be getting. He'd said nothing, and although wondering about their intentions towards other another he'd actually secretly been quite pleased that they'd become friends.

Now things were different. They hardly seemed to know each other anymore and he could barely relate to the people they were becoming. Maybe Teal'c could see it too. He always saw a lot more than he let on.

He sighed. If only he could tie them back together, repair this rift that was slowly splitting them all apart.

**>>>>>>>>**

"O'Neill!" The thunderous voice of the approaching Jaffa shattered the silence. "They appear to be leaving. Perhaps we may relocate to the stargate shortly."

There was a small shifting of rubble as a shadow fell and Teal'c came into view.

"Way to go T.," muttered O'Neill, as he turned back towards Carter and Daniel. "Let's get out of here kids."

_TBC_

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	2. Chapter One

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_Thank you to everyone who review the prologue. I greatly appreciated any feedback and constructive criticism. It helps me improve!_

_On to Chapter One.._

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Chapter One**

It had been a fitful morning. Four reports down (headings in bold and double spaced), he had then given the go-ahead for the new dialling program to be installed (to occupy Siler), and then promptly sent SG-2, 10 and 15 out on re-con for six hours (and misinformed Walter Harriman that as themissions were high-risk he should remain in the gate room until all teams were back and not, under any circumstances be seen in his vicinity.)

Avoiding the issue, Jack, he'd repeated over again in his mind, but he realised that as soon as he started moping his thoughts drifted back to her, and how she was doing - which incidentally, he didn't know. She'd been carted off to the infirmary and sedated, before which she'd turned away from him as he hovered near the end of her bed.

Before, maybe, he would have seen that as a sign that she needed some support, but now he doubted himself. Support? Or was she telling him that she'd moved on, her fiancé was coming and if he wouldn't mind getting lost?

The good doctor had to report to him anyway, seeing as he was the General, and Carter clearly would not be heading off-world anytime soon. That alone was his reason for hurrying back at breakneck speed to his office with his box of froot loops coveted from the commissary.

Crap, he thought as he was just about to round the corner. Voices. Was there some sort of queue forming outside his door?

"Do you think this is wise DanielJackson?" he heard Teal'c exclaim.

The archaeologist shrugged.

" I do believe that at this time O'Neill is bound to be in a most volatile state."

"Maybe," Daniel replied, "But the Superman routine is starting to wear a little thin. Do you know that he alphabetised my entire collection of Babylonian Texts this morning? Wrongly, might I add?"

Teal'c appeared to consider this gravely.

"Hey guys!" He grinned falsely as he walked by them.

"Ja-ck," stuttered Daniel, "I was about to – "

"As was I O'Neill," chimed Teal'c.

He shook his head and pulled his chair up to his desk. Kids. And then he saw it.

A post-it.

Jeez, Daniel sure was getting crafty in his old age.

'_GO AND SEE HER.'_

Printed in block capitals too. Was he really that grouchy?

They had a point, he guessed. And he supposed that if she really protested he could always make some excuse… or.. he didn't actually have to make any excuse. He was in charge, for crying out loud!

But for some reason unknown, he felt as though she was calling the shots.

He'd wait until she was asleep.

**>>>>>>>>**

She awoke this time in a warm bed to walls of white, and the isolated beeping of the monitor beside her. Alive.

The curtain pulled around her bedside, she could hear the flurry of footsteps beyond, as they bustled by and around and pretended she wasn't there. In that moment there was just her and her thoughts; and in that moment nobody felt as alone as Sam Carter did.

She felt a tear snake its way down her cheek. Dammit. She was not going to cry. Not here, not now, not ever over this. But she couldn't help it.

She saw it when she shut her eyes – the look on his face as he'd taken her hand and gazed at her ring. He'd spoken quietly to her, a measure of acceptance as he'd congratulated her. The worst of it had been that he'd meant it.

Somehow if he'd fought her, slammed his fist on the table, things might have been better. But, he hadn't. No, he wished her every happiness and in return she'd witnessed an awful dimming in his eyes.

A letting go.

She'd hurt him. And she couldn't take it back. She couldn't face him, or look him in the eye to see the reflection of her callousness, her cruelty. After all they'd been through. She'd given up first; that was it. But she hadn't, she just needed someone to hold onto, and he couldn't be there.

Her ribs were on fire, as she struggled to control her breathing. The pain meds were wearing off. She rolled onto her side and clutched her chest. Her shoulder itched terribly, and though long since over, she could still smell the odour of singed skin as the blast burned it's way through her jacket and into her flesh.

She swallowed.

"Is Sam down there?" His question permeated her frantic thoughts.

"Yes General, she's asleep. Though I think the sedatives should be wearing off soon."

"Okay, I'll only be a couple of minutes anyway."

He walked towards her and she shut her eyes, and relaxed her breathing. She heard the curtain being pulled back and his footsteps softening as he came to a stop by the side of her bed.

There was an eerie silence and she was quite tempted to open her eyes to check if he was still there. Except then she felt it – his hand. His fingertips as they gently brushed away a loose strand of hair.

"Get better soon, Sam," he whispered, and the hand was abruptly removed. She missed it immediately.

He turned and faded into the distance, pulling the curtain behind him.

"Nurse," she heard him say quietly, "She needs some painkillers."

"I'll get right on that, Sir."

**>>>>>>>>**

There was nothing on television. His Simpsons re-runs had vanished overnight and the hockey match had been postponed.

So there was himself, his couch, and a remote that was doing absolutely nothing to lift his spirits.

_She'd been awake._

It was truly a sad reflection of him that he could tell her sleeping patterns. She smiled in her sleep, a fact that he found unusual, but at the same time oddly comforting; at least one of them was having pleasant dreams.

_She'd been awake._

Her brow had been furrowed, criss-crossed with lines of pain, and he'd known there was no way that she was still asleep. Her lips had been pursed, her fragile fingers white from gripping the pillow in an effort to conceal whatever it was that she'd been hiding. She had not been asleep.

_She'd not wanted to see him_.

He wasn't sure if that hurt him more than the news of the engagement. He'd thought it over and it came down to two simple things.

He could live with Sam being married to Pete.

He could not live without Sam in his life at all.

And gradually she was slipping away from him.

He was about to pull his second can of beer when was a loud booming knock at the door. Now, it didn't take a military mind to work out who that was.

"Daniel Jackson insisted that it is imperative not to allow you to wallow in self pity, O'Neill."

"I did not," mumbled a voice from behind two large shopping bags.

"I concurred." The Jaffa continued on into the house.

"Why, come in, of course," Jack muttered dryly as he heard the unmistakable sound of feet being placed on his coffee table. He reached out and grabbed a bag from Daniel, who was unsuccessfully trying to negotiate his front step.

"Hat uncomfortable?" he wondered as he caught sight of Teal'c's gloriously pink woolly hat adorning the doorknob.

"Indeed. My recent cosmetic endeavours as yet provide insufficient camouflage."

Jack frowned – just how long exactly was Teal'c planning on growing his hair?

**>>>>>>>>**

"Where is she?" Hurried footsteps. "Oh my God, Sam, what has he done to you?"

"Pete," she murmured groggily. He'd woken her up.

"Of course it's me," he chided.

"Who did what to me?"

"_Him._ Where did _he_ send you? You can't keep coming back injured, Sam."

She yawned. _Please not here. Let's not have this discussion here._

"My job is high-risk, Pete. You know that."

His face darkened.

"You're going to have to make some decisions, Sam. I.. I want you here with me. I don't want to have to say goodbye every few days and know it might be the last time I'll see you."

"My job is important to me. It's not open to discussion. You're a police officer – you are just as likely to get injured." _Although, she mused, maybe not quite._

"I think – "

"Pete, I'm tired. Do you mind if I get some rest? You can call round tomorrow when I'm home and we talk things through."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'm not letting this go, you know," he added sternly.

She gritted her teeth.

_Believe me, I know._

**>>>>>>>>**

The credits rolled as the three men lay sprawled in various directions across the floor. Teal'c had felt it rather girly to be holding a 'night-in' ritual with a film in O'Neills living room, but ever the diplomat, Daniel had pointed out that three hours spent staring at the box were far more likely to take Jack's mind off things than a night spent contemplating the affairs of the galaxy over a beer can.

Teal'c stood up pensively, abruptly shattering the lazy silence that had descended in the room. "I believe it was – "

"Ssssh!" Jack jumped to attention, raising one finger to silence the Jaffa. His face had calmed and taken on a vacant, stunned look.

"Ssssh."

Teal'c stared at him with a quivering eyebrow. "Are you quite alright, O'Neill?" he enquired.

"I… - I.." This feeling - it was so familiar, yet he couldn't quite place it. Confusion and speechlessness all rolled into one. He paused momentarily to steady himself and concentrate his thoughts. He grabbed the video box.

"Aha!" he exclaimed.

Eureka.

So _that_ was it.

He had just been technobabbled.

By a film.

By a film _without_ any technobabble.

"I thought you'd enjoy that one," remarked Daniel wickedly as he ejected 'Memento' from the recorder.

And he had enjoyed it – for a split second. Then he wondered if he'd ever really feel that feeling again; it reminded him of her, how she made him feel.

How she was fading from him slowly.

How he was letting her go.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter Two

_Again, many thanks for all the lovely reviews. The angst continues.. there are just some issues in the story that need resolving before I can head in the direction I want to go. __As always reviews, opinions and criticisms are welcomed. Now, on to Chapter Two-_

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**Chapter Two**

Her house held the scent of a weeks dull emptiness, as Daniel put the kettle on and she lowered herself onto the sofa.

The first day home was always the worst.

Her eyelids tapped shut, and the radio blared from the kitchen. Soon Daniel would leave. Soon Pete would call over.

The only time she hated her empty house was when she was injured. Somehow the quietness always seemed amplified when she couldn't stand or move and the lonely silence always tricked her into questioning those life-details that she usually brushed aside–

Children. Family. The past.

She wasn't getting any younger, but she couldn't help but feel that she was rushing head first into something that she was unsure of.

'After effects,' she had told herself plainly. She liked having a man around. She _was_ happy with Pete. He made her smile, gave her something other than the latest scientific journal to look forward to.

It was just so unexpected, and she still didn't know how to react. She'd sworn to take things slowly after the events of her first engagement, but at that time she hadn't counted on being single for years.

Then he came from out of the blue, and suddenly everything was moving so fast, too fast. She could feel the carpet being pulled out from under her and her control of her emotions slipping away into oblivion.

She'd only known him a year. Sometimes she felt as though she barely knew him at all. And then there were those chilling times when she couldn't help the mixture of old fear and new wonder that ran through her body when he referred to her as _"his girl."_

It dragged back memories of her first diamond ring.

**>>>>>>>>**

"Daniel!" Pete greeted him armed with a huge display of flowers and a bottle of wine. "How's my favourite girl?"

"Uh, she's resting," he said, eyeing the bottle of wine, "I don't think that'll go too well with her meds."

To his surprise Pete blushed.

"It's for next week.. I'm thinking of staying here for a while. Just until she's back in fighting form."

"Ah," Daniel nodded. Funny. Sam hadn't mentioned anything about that to him. In fact when he'd offered to come over later with Chinese, she'd seemed grateful for the company.

He took the flowers from Pete. "I'll go put these in water and leave you two to it."

Pete pushed open the door. She'd moved to a chair in the corner and was peacefully rocking to and fro, bundled up in blankets. She was pale, he thought, and the black circles under her eyes made her look burnt out and fragile.

She never sat properly on the rocking chair. She always sat sideways, curled up with her hands wrapped around her knees. She was taller than him, but looking at her now she seemed so small, delicate. He was almost afraid to reach out and take her hand, lest she'd shatter to pieces before his eyes.

The door slammed as Daniel left, and he pulled the stool from the corner over in front of her. She wasn't asleep, just dozing a little, and so she sensed the jagged movement and wakened slowly to stare at him.

"Hey." He spoke with tenderness, trailing a finger down the side of her face.

"Hey yourself," she whispered back.

"Can we talk?" he asked moving himself closer.

She sighed wearily. They had to talk eventually, but just.. She wanted – she didn't know what she wanted. Him to hold her, perhaps. Let her lean against him. The journey home had taken a lot out of her. She lacked the energy to say anything, to really listen to him, to give her own opinion.

She didn't want to think. She wanted so badly to feel safe, secure for a fleeting while, to sleep without dreading she'd wake up feeling alone.

She didn't want to argue with him. She had no strength to argue with him. She felt drained, as though little by little her life was being sucked away.

He didn't wait for an answer.

"Look Sam, I'm serious about this. Every time you come home bandaged like nobody's business.. it scares me. I don't want to lose you. I don't want our children to lose their mother."

'_Children!!' She thought frantically. _

There was an unnatural silence. He looked at her expectantly.

"Pete," she finally said. "I don't know what to say to you. I mean, this, my job has been my life for the past eight years. It's what I do. I can't just let it go overnight. I'd miss it…. I'd miss the guys. You can only imagine the type of technology I study – hell – you've even seen some of it. I can't find work like that anywhere else."

"With your qualifications you could get a job anywhere else on Earth," he argued, "Surely there must be something else that you've thought about doing?"

Maybe there was,once upon a time, she thought. But not now. Her gaze drifted down to her hands. She wasn't getting through to him. This was one issue he'd always been relentless about. At first he'd only asked her to consider spending less time off-world. Now he not only wanted her with her feet firmly on this planet, but he also seemed alarmingly keen for her to leave the base altogether.

"I'll think about it," she murmured, sinking back into the comfort of the cushion.

"It'll be for the best," he replied. "I'm sorry I'm being so pushy, but I have a suggestion. My family have a summerhouse about an hours drive away. Why don't we head up there when you're feeling up to it? You must have some leave due?"

"Yeah.." She looked at him dubiously.

"Look. You need a break. And at the very least we can make a try at leading a normal life, even if it is only for a short while. You owe it to yourself, Sam to see what life is like outside of that mountain. You might even like it."

She thought for a moment. Maybe she did deserve some time away. And if it meant he'd leave her be for a while..

"A summerhouse, eh," she queried.

He grinned.

"Pete, it's the middle of winter," she commented cheekily.

"I know that, Smartass," he retorted, "Now, I think you could do withsome rest.."

**>>>>>>>>**

General O'Neill stared at the request in his hand. Samantha Carter in pursuit of some time off. Now there was something he'd thought he'd never see.

He gave it to her, of course, without question. He'd been trying to get her to have some real time to herself for months. Obviously Pete had managed to persuade her.

_C'mon Jack, at least he's looking out for her._

It didn't mean that he was going to stop, though. She always seemed so strong, even when she was completely overwhelmed. He'd made a vow years ago on his return from Edora, that as long as he was able, he would never let her suffer or hurt herself over anyone or anything – especially not over himself.

It was a bone of contention whether or not leave should be granted at such short notice, and though he was tempted to rag her about it _("Pulling in special favours, are we Carter?"),_ he had thought better of it.

For one thing, it had been two weeks since he last talked to her.

For another, he didn't want to strain their relationship any further, or worse still, send her off upset and angry to wherever it was that she was going.

Besides, it meant that he got to spend some quality time with Cassie. Apart from sharing a similar sense of humour – Sam had once claimed he gave her lessons every time she and Janet looked away – the young woman cared about Sam as much as he did and in her incredibly blunt way, would probably tell him exactly what it was that he had done to Sam and how he should fix it.

Or, he wondered as pessimism descended, if they could salvage anything from the situation at all.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter Three

_Many thanks for all reviews - I'm open to any form of criticism, it helps me improve. Hopefully a certain character will be shown the door shortly. I just want to make it as real as possible._

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**Chapter Three**

Pete had been right. It was an undeniably beautiful place. Close to a nearby village, but ultimately far enough away that if she gazed around she could see nothing but hills and countryside for miles around. At night the wind whistled through a canopy of trees that seemed to overhang the garden; in the mornings each green leaf and concrete surface shone with the glitter of frost.

Calling it a 'small' summerhouse had been an understatement. It was, in no uncertain terms, a palace. She'd been gobsmacked as he'd driven up what appeared to be some form of avenue to a beautiful red-bricked mansion and exclaimed 'We're here!'

By day she wandered through the house in her socks, relishing the feel of the under floor heating warming her feet, and in the evening they sat together in front of the grand open fire, exchanging stories or enjoying the silence.

To her surprise she found that she enjoyed it. She could forget everything, the SGC, the galaxy. Of course, she'd already analysed it and found that she never minded time off, provided that this forgetting, suppressing, ignoring only lasted a certain amount of time.

Nevertheless this newly found mundane life was something she could get used to. She was content here, without the weight of the universe on her shoulders.

**>>>>>>>>**

"Right. That's it!" Cassie fumed banging her mug down on the table. Reaching over to the remote, she zapped the television. "Out with it, Uncle Jack," she continued sweetly.

"Hey! I was watching that!" He glared at the teenager. "And I've no idea what you're talking about."

Cassie rolled her eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You," she emphasised, "have been _dying_ to ask me something since the moment I've gotten here. My patience is wearing thin. Spit it out."

He turned and grabbed the remote from her, and switched the tv back on. "I think," he replied in an annoyingly innocent voice, "that your imagination is working overtime."

Then he turned his back to her and settled comfortably in his chair.

"It's about Sam, isn't it?" the young woman asked.

He turned the tv off.

**>>>>>>>>**

"So you've really never played this before?" Pete questioned. "You're kicking my ass!"

"Nope," she aimed… bulls-eye. "Darts never interested me."

"Oh, but you're interested now," he whispered coming up behind her.

"That's only because it's so much fun wiping the floor with you," she giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

"So tell me, Lt. Colonel, are you an expert markswoman to boot?"

She shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess."

He did his best Teal'c eyebrow impression. It had the desired effect – she raised her hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine, I'm a little better than okay," she grinned, before adding, "I even out–shot the General once at target practice. "

Pete turned her round to face him. "So he's the man to beat with a bullet, eh?"

She nodded. "General O'Neill is easily the best marksman on the base. He doesn't make a deal of it, but you'd know it if you watched him practice…

I remember once, we'd had a bad day and I went out to look for him, found him down at the firing range. For the whole hour that I watched he hit every single shot dead on, without even appearing to concentrate. It was unreal."

"And he doesn't even brag about it?" Pete asked incredulously.

Sam shook her head. "Not his style – he just does what he has to do, gets on with it, doesn't expect or need validation or recognition from anyone."

_But you'd brag wouldn't you? She wondered. God, she had to stop comparing every single man she met with the General. Why do that? Is it because he's everything you've ever looked for, she asked herself, with good humoured wrapping paper, and a ribbon of boyish charm to boot? _

She thought for a moment, before recalling -

"I remember once, on a mission, he saved two cadets from drowning. The President and General Hammond cooked up this special SGC medal, to be given only in cases of exceptional strength, courage and bravery. A big honour really, and they wanted to present it to him. He refused it."

She paused.

"I asked him later why he had refused, and he said that unless they were to punish him for every life he'd taken, he would never accept a medal for the few people he has kept alive."

"So there's a real thinker under that thick sarcastic hide," Pete mused.

Sam froze. How _dare_ he sneer at the General, a man about whom he knew nothing! She bit her lip, deciding to back down and keep the civil atmosphere. "There is, Pete. There's so much more to him than what he lets people see," she said softly. "He's a good man." _He's a great man._

She turned away, twisting the ring around her finger, trying to forget but at the same time caught up in a nagging feeling that she was settling, about to base her life on Pete's terms, and lose those other feelings, the ones that linked her with a man who was none other than the rock she had relied on for years.

She could run, she could leave, but forgetting him and how even his presence gave her security – that would be difficult.

_No, she realised. That would be impossible._

_**>>>>>>>>**_

"It is about Sam!"

Jack turned towards Cassie, a serious look on his face. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Come _on_," the teen muttered indignantly. "You don't mean to say that you haven't noticed how distant she's been lately."

'Distant,' he thought bitterly. Well that was one way of putting it. Downright evasive was another, and quite frankly, a more appropriate term. Although, he knew that he hadn't exactly been entirely friendly to her either.

"Okay, Cass." The defeat was evident in his voice. "Why don't you tell me exactly what I've done and how to put things right?"

Cassie's jaw dropped. "Em, Jack? I thought it was because of what's-his-face and not you.."

"Pete?" Jack was puzzled. "But Pete makes her happy."

Cassie sighed. Men were so clueless and unobservant. Especially this one. Was she going to have to spell everything out to him? Probably.

"He does," she explained, "but – I don't know – sometimes I see them together and I think that she's happy. Then he'll say something, or do something and she'll withdraw completely. Like she disagrees and doesn't want to argue, or well, it something like that. Oh, you know he wants her to quits her job, right?"

His face turned three shades of red, and his eyes bulged. "What," he spluttered, before he managed to calm himself – "Carter'll never quit. She loves the military."

"Well she told him she'd think about it."

_Steady on, Jack. That is most definitely Carter-speak for 'No way in hell.'_

"Why doesn't she just tell him to get lost?" Cassie asked. "That's what I would do." She paused. "Of course if I were actually engaged to the guy, I'd probably be a bit slower to do it. But I'd definitely do it," she added. "Definitely."

Jack cracked a smile at her solemn resolution.

Carter had been engaged before, right? And it hadn't ended well. Maybe she just wanted those things that everyone else seemed to have – house and dog, a normal life. No interplanetary incidents to have to deal with- kids, lots of blue-eyed, blond-haired children running around her back yard. If he thought about it, her house was big enough. Maybe she'd bought it with a family in mind.

He knew. He knew because he'd been there and done it all before, and regardless of how things were now, he would never pass up on that experience of family.

He remembered her with Cassie when they had first found her. It had surprised him that underneath this straight-laced soldier were the most natural mothering instincts, how the girl had clung to her and how Carter hadn't let her down.

She deserved to be a mother, to have a family. She deserved so much.

He'd give her the world on a plate if he could, she meant that much to him.

In the end it was clear – he couldn't give her that kind of happiness, no matter how often he thought about it. No, those gifts were beyond him –

The security that Pete brought her.

The chance not to live in that big house alone.

**>>>>>>>>**

"I'm going for a walk," Sam announced as she passed by Pete in the garden. "Just down the lane for a bit, towards the rocky hill."

He looked up from where he was digging and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Want some company?"

She considered his question, then shrugged. "Why not?"

"I'll go clean up and get a jacket," he replied, "You can go on ahead and I'll catch up with you soon."

She'd only spent a few days in the area, but already this had become her favourite spot. In fact, as time wore on she found herself spending an increasing amount of time there. It wasn't that she was trying to escape – or maybe it was – but she needed to think.

Life had become so complicated, and now it seemed as though no matter which way she turned, she was hurting those people who meant everything to her. She had to stop analyzing it, because the deeper she delved, the more messed up it seemed to get.

She needed time to sort through everything. She needed time on her own, not cultivating this façade of normality. It was everything she wanted though. She wanted a life like this, but she couldn't possibly choose between her life at the SGC and this life that she so desperately needed.

She never had been any good at letting go; dealing with the bitter aftertaste of saying goodbye and moving on. She wasn't ready to move on. Sometimes, her heart told her thatshe'd never be ready – not with anyone else..

At the side of the hill was a cliff, jagged and steep and when she stood at the edge and looked down, she imagined that she was flying.

Flying over the hills and the valleys, away from this, away from those thoughts that plagued her. Her foot moved a fraction forward, then suddenly she heard the deafening crumble of the soil upon which she balanced.

She was flung forwards, then backwards, then sliding, her back scraping off rock and stone, her head cracking off rugged landscape.

She stretched out her arms, fingers flexing in time to the beat of her heart as she tried to grab hold of anything, anything at all that might slow her descent. There was nothing.

Nothing except pain, as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

She heard him scream with the intensity of a wild animal as he made his way to her side.

"Pete," she murmured as slowly the world started to fade to black, "Call the general."

Her breath came in short gasps. "Can't.. go to.. hospital.. only.. base."

He held her hands as a purple bruise darkened her jaw and her grip became weaker.

Finally, as the sun faded in the sky, she slipped into the arms of unconsciousness.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter Four

_Wow, thank you all so much for the many reviews. I haven't fully decided what's to happen in the next part of the story, so it may be a while before my next update - but for the moment, here's Chapter Four -_

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* * *

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**Chapter Four**

"_You'll listen to me Samantha Carter, and you'll listen well," he sneered, backing her up against the kitchen counter. _

"_No – I"_

"_You what?" He grabbed her wrists. "I'm sorry. Maybe you can get away with acting like this now, but it won't be the case once you're my wife."_

_He grinned menacingly, as he threw her arms back banging them off the wooden counter top._

_There was a wild fire in his eyes and she didn't dare to breath until she had run out the back door, away from him.  
_

Jack sat down in the chair beside her bed. Often he wondered how it was that a person as vibrant and enthusiastic as Sam could look so peaceful as she slept. She had a severe concussion, and had managed to break her right wrist and bruise her ribs quite badly during that tumble down the hillside.

Of course that was only the beginning, he could well imagine the other bruises and cuts she must have sustained. All in all, she'd be very sore for the best part of the next two weeks, and knowing Sam, she'd be incredibly frustrated by her injuries.

"_Oh, God. Jonas, No. Let me go! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"_

_She felt a slap across her jaw, and a fist brutally knocking her to the ground._

"_You," he told her flatly, "are mine."_

"_No!" She screamed. Why couldn't they hear her? Why didn't anybody help her?  
_

"Sam," Jack frowned.

She'd started moving around in the bed. She was mumbling something that he couldn't quite hear, and her body was twisting, turning torturously.

'She's gonna hurt herself,' he panicked, looking around the room to alert the infirmary staff.

Her distress was becoming more acute. She'd started trying to wave her arms about he could see a look of confusion on her face as her broken wrist hit the side of the bed and pain shot up her arm.

Crap. "Sam," he whispered softly, taking hold of both of her hands. "It's okay."

She seemed to quieten, but her chest was still heaving from whatever it was that she had dreamed. She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture. Then, as he watched, her eyes opened slowly.

"Hey there," he let go of one of her hands.

"Sir?" she croaked. He gave her a sip of water.

"I'll just go and – " She gripped his hand reflexively.

Okay, he thought, maybe I'll stay for a while.

Her faced was flushed, an unnatural shade of fear and shock against the pale, pale colour of her skin and the dirty bruises that littered her jaw. Her eyes were watering and her lips trembled, as those of a person caught between a dream and reality.

"You gave us all a fright, Colonel," he chided her softly.

"Pete?" she wondered.

"Oh right," the General remembered, "Pete, in his rush to get you here, apparently left the gas running, and the front door of his house wide open. So he's returned to wherever to fix it, and will be back in the morning."

She nodded, and then winced as the room spun.

"Carter," he continued gently, "We'll be moving you up to a room in the ground floor before then. I know that Pete has clearance to see you down here, but while he knows about the Stargate he's still unauthorised to know the content of any current missions, so it's just a precaution, okay?"

"Sure," she replied feebly, "Understood Sir."

"So," he wondered brightly, in an effort to lift her spirits, "How was your time off.. well, before all this?" He gestured with his hands.

She smiled.

"Well, Pete has a summerhouse…"

"A summerhouse?" he interrupted.

She cringed. His face had that look that signified that he was going to tease her about something. She held her breath.

_No, Sir. No. Don't crack a joke about my refusal to go fishing, she begged silently. I don't think I can handle having to think of a response._

"You went to his summerhouse?" he repeated. "Carter," he said with mock seriousness, "You do realise that it's the middle of winter?"

It was then that the bottom completely fell out of her barely maintained composure. She bit back a sob.

"Hey." He rubbed her hand. "I'm sorry. You're right. It was a bad joke."

"No," she protested. "It's just – "

He waited patiently.

"Never mind. I'm okay." She gave him a wan smile.

_It's just that they were my exact words to Pete when he asked me to go there._

_How can I move on with my life when every time I see you I get one more reminder of why we belong together?_

**>>>>>>>>**

'Of all the stupidest things,' Pete muttered to himself as he drove back. The gas, well, he could have overlooked that, but leaving the front door open – way to go. As a police officer he really should have known better.

He'd set off right away, in the hope that he'd be back before Sam woke up. She seemed to be having a tough time of it injury wise; in fact if he didn't know better he'd have labelled her accident-prone a long time ago.

And then he had to ask O'Neill to keep an eye on her.

Not that the General wouldn't have been watching her anyway, but for some reason Pete thought it necessary to remind the guy exactly where he stood with 'his' Sam. Truth be known, he'd long been of the opinion that O'Neill was harbouring some sort of secret feelings for his girlfriend.

'Quit sugar-coating it, Shanahan,' he told himself, 'The guy has a blatant crush on her.'

At times he really didn't know what annoyed him more – the General's covert drooling, or Sam's seeming enjoyment of his attentions. Thankfully he didn't get to see them together too often, but when he did he was always overcome by an awkward feeling of aggressiveness, coupled with the hairs on the back of his neck bristling.

They didn't actually have to say anything, or do anything for him to feel that way. It just happened, as though naturally influenced by the crackle of the tension in the room.

And it drove him absolutely mad.

The sooner he and Sam started their life together away from that mountain, the better.

>>>>>>>>

How long, Sam?

How long has it been since you've remembered him?

Jonas.

How long has it been since he's invaded your dreams, made you cry, terrified you all over again?

She lay in the darkness, afraid to move, afraid to listen. She was over this. She had been over this a long time ago. Sure, it wasn't something she could easily forget, but as time had passed and she'd moved on she'd let go. She'd been happy.

She'd been completely in control.

Her C.O. had trusted her, given her space, allowed her to make her own decisions.

Control was slipping, she was being pulled against her will, making choices that weren't really choices and it scared her because it brought every flashing image back to her.

The helplessness.

The worthlessness.

How close she'd come to giving up completely.

She couldn't go back to being nothing. She couldn't live in a world that wasn't her own to direct. If leaving here were the first move, how far would he go? Would there be any of her left at all?

Stop it, Sam. Stop it.

He's not Jonas. This is you looking ahead because you think you've been down this path before. It won't be as bad as it was then.

But why are you so uncertain? Why does fear claw at your gut?

He's safe. He won't hurt you.

Except that you can never give him what he wants…

>>>>>>>>

The room was dimly lit by scraps of moonlight that penetrated through the clouds. She sat, a lonely figure cast in painful solitude, her face and its mournful expression reflecting palely in the glass of the window.

Her glistening eyes were the first thing he noticed, and immediately he approached her, standing behind and placing both hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, come on," Pete uttered playfully, "You're not upset because you think you've ruined our month of a normal life are you?"

She stood up suddenly, catching him off-guard. Her stance was battered; her face puffy and red bore a look of pure hopelessness.

"Can't you see?" her voice trembled slightly. "Can't you see it? I'm not normal. I can't give you normal."

She took his hand in hers, and opened his palm towards her. When her fingers moved away she met his gaze squarely.

Her eyes, he realized, eclipsed the sparkling diamond he now held in his hand.

"Sam, no." He reached out for her, but she had turned away again.

"I'm so sorry, Pete." Her voice cracked, her body shook.

"Why?"

She took a deep breath. "We're lying to each other Pete. We always have been. You.. you want normal, and today I finally realised that no matter how hard I try, even if I gave up work, it would never be normal because I'm not like every other person on the planet. I've been changed, I've had things happen to me that no normal person could comprehend or even believe…

I can't give up the SGC Pete, because what I do is a part of me and I can't let it go."

"I can change Sam. We can work it out," he pleaded.

"No," she whispered sadly. "Nobody should have to change. I need to be accepted for who I am and what I do. I love you for who you are Pete, but it just wouldn't work -"

"I'm not him, am I," he realised.

"No," she choked out, "You're not."

_TBC_


End file.
